


My Grandfather's Girlfriend

by jordanthenerd



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordanthenerd/pseuds/jordanthenerd
Summary: "Rose, let's just run away? Find some peaceful corner of this earth that war doesn't touch and just settle down!" Roger plead to her, excitement and hope glinting in his bright, steely blue eyes. Rose sat there, in awe of what she was hearing out of this strong man, a leader at that."You...you would just leave?" Is all she could manage out.It's been 210 years since the bombs dropped. And Nora wasn't the only one saved by the pre-war Vaut-Tech experiment of Vault 111. Rosemary Hawkins is trying to find where she belongs in this wild Wasteland, and what better place to start than the Brotherhood of Steel? But it seems she has more history with the militia than she initially thought.And what she knows is tearing apart Elder Arthur Maxson, reducing him to a bumbling squire once more whenever she is around. But, her existence could be the very essence to mankind's existence, or its undoing yet again.





	1. Rosemary Hawkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So...it's really been 210 years," Rose had breathed, her heart seeming to shrivel in her chest, tears budding into her soft blue eyes. Nora looked down at the smaller woman with remorse and lay a hand upon her shoulder reassuringly. Rose looked up at the General and forced a smile to her lips. "I-I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be throwing such a pity party for myself. You've been through so much more than me."
> 
> "But you've lost so much more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever Will Be, Will Be by Doris Day

**The Commonwealth**

**Cambridge Police Station**

**December 2287**

Running through the ash ridden charcoal wasteland of post-apocalyptic Boston America isn't _exactly _how Rosemary assumed her senior year of college would go. She hadn't assumed every few feet she'd be doubled over, wheezing from running exertion and the irradiated air she breathed. Perhaps battling sunburns was the most familiar of problems she had to combat. Every summer, she would lay out by the local community center pool, lathering her slender body with white sunblock to shield her fair skin from the harmful sunlight.

But that was more a show than anything as it caused all the boys to snap their necks to catch a look at _Roger's_ girl. 

Roger's girl. 

Good Lord, that was a title she was proud to swing in the faces of anybody that got too bold when it came to the 'look-don't-touch' rule. Roger Maxson, a hotshot officer in the Army, his ASU's were gloriously decorated with combat medals and ribbons, tailored to his body like a magazine model. He was a man of men. The women fawned over him, the men stumbled over each other to shake his hand, and the soldiers beneath him idolized him. 

But she knew Captain Roger Maxson. Albeit they had a casual relationship (it was on again, off again whenever he was home) she knew him better than anyone. And she knew that Roger would not stay in the Army long enough to see retirement. She had kept letters, mementos, and relics of their relationship that communicated his displeasure with the military. And even where those failed to communicate Roger's true feelings, she had her memories. And those, in and of themselves, would be more than enough. 

So when Rosemary awoke from a deep, cryogenic slumber and found her way stumbling out of the vault, she ended up in her old neck of the woods, Sanctuary Hills. Only this time around, it was different, run down with age and rust...and already inhabited by a new group of people, who did not delay in apprehending her and locking her in the confines of an old neighbor's home. 

Looking back on it, Rosemary chuckled. She could definitely understand _now _why the settlers had been so apprehensive. The world wasn't what it used to be. 

In fact, she was certain the only reason they didn't kill her on sight was because of the bright, blue and yellow Vault 111 jumpsuit she wore. But she had sat in that shabby, run-down bedroom for days, handcuffed and fed only scraps until their fearless leader had returned. Rosemary, who's brain felt like it had been blended to goop and poured back into her skull by this point, had tried to ready herself for this confrontation. All she had known at that point was it had been many years since the bombs had dropped, and she was still coughing up those god-awful liquid nitrogen chemicals. 

So when the dark-skinned man who claimed to be a _Minuteman_ unlocked her door to tell her his general would decide her fate, Rose readied herself to unleash hell upon this man. To scream and curse and make him feel as small as a bug, which may have been more a compliment at this day and age, and demand her release...She was more than baffled to see the familiar, warm brown eyes of her old neighbor...

_"Nora?!"_ Rose had gasped, and the General's eyes widened considerably. 

_"Rosemary?! But how?!"_

And thus the reunion commenced, a few tears being shed and awkward one-sided hugging, due to Rose still being handcuffed. There were so many questions, so much disbelief, but it resulted in Rosemary's salvation and many apologies from the settlers who had treated her with such caution. After being released from her confines, Rose and Nora walked the rubbled streets of Sanctuary together, Nora filling her in as best as possible as they paused in front of the rickety old wooden bridge overlooking the rest of the Commonwealth. 

_"So...it's really been 210 years,"_ Rose had breathed, her heart seeming to shrivel in her chest, tears budding into her soft blue eyes. Nora looked down at the smaller woman with remorse and lay a hand upon her shoulder reassuringly. Rose looked up at the General and forced a smile to her lips. _"I-I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be throwing such a pity party for myself. You've been through so much more than me."_

_"But you've lost so much more," _Nora leveled with her gently squeezing her shoulder as a solemn, hot tear dripped down Rose's flushed cheek in response. 

That was true. Nora still had the promise of finding her kidnapped son. Rosemary on the other hand...she had lost her parents, her brother, her friends, her college, her dreams, her future, her _lover..._ Nora was less than surprised to watch Rose pivot away from her, double over and throw up. It was a perfectly reasonable reaction to knowing she had lost everything. And then sobs. 

Rosemary hated thinking about that moment of weakness that still gripped her heart by the short hairs. She remembered falling over in the streets, sobbing pitifully as Nora struggled to hold her tight while Rose flailed against her hold, screaming in agony. It felt she had just seen them. Her parents, her brother, Roger...and now they were gone. She lay in Nora's old home in Sanctuary for over a week, staring at the dusty, blank TV screen as the sounds of the settlers making Sanctuary a more liveable community filled the air.

Rose's wakeup moment had come when a Raider attack fell upon Sanctuary. It was all hands on deck and Rose still couldn't be bothered to move from her spot on the couch, bathing in her pool of self-pity and depression. So when a Raider found herself in the home looking at a young woman wallowing in a catatonic state, she grinned evilly at the easy pickings. The raider crept over to the couch quietly, switchblade in hand when all of a sudden Rose sat up, staring at the raider with annoyance who paused in her tracks at being caught by what she thought was a human vegetable. 

There was a moment of silence. 

Rose's eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunching up in annoyance as she withdrew a 10mm pistol from the couch cushions and pointed it at the raider who stared down the barrel in a moment of surprise. 

_"Fuck off, would you."_

And Rose squeezed the trigger. It was strange, at that moment, how Rosemary seemed to wake up. Nora and a few of the settlers came running into the house where the source of the gunshot was heard, Nora fearing the worst. To her relief, she found Rose sitting up on the couch, hunched over crying while the dead raider on the floor was bleeding out of a bullet wound to the head. Stepping carefully over the body, Nora sat down next to her, gently wrapping an arm around the young girl who cried pitifully, consoling her about taking a life. 

_"-those people were less than human. It's a 'kill or be killed' situation when it comes to them, honey,"_ Nora had tenderly told the girl who looked up at the woman with utter confusion. 

_"The raider? I'm not crying about that bitch,"_ Rose sniffled, her voice thick but sardonic. _"I'm crying because I think I sprained my wrist when I shot the gun! Ow!" _

Nora was struck with absolute unyielding shock as she stared at Rose, who she now noticed was cradling her swelling right hand. After the General digested that information, a warm smile traced its way across her face as she hugged Rose closer to her body again, chuckling at her simplistic comment. No one was really certain, psychologically speaking, how Rosemary bounced back from a crippling state of depression like that, hell, even Rose herself didn't know. But after she woke up, she could have eaten a whole brahmin. 

"Initiate," Paladin Danse's booming, baritone voice ripped her out of her reverie, and she spun around, rendering a sloppy, sarcastic, pre-war salute to which the brown eyes of Danse seemed to struggle with the concept for a moment before he dropped his stare to clench his fists frustratedly. He couldn't see her face, due to the gas mask she donned and the hood she kept drawn over her head. 

"Paladin," Rose's smiley voice retorted with equal reverberation. Danse was no idiot. He knew when he was being mocked. 

"For starters, do not salute like that."

"Roger-dodger," She nodded sharply, lowering her hand. They were outside the old, Cambridge Police Station, news of the Prydwen's arrival having finally reached them. Scribe Haylen was nearby, writing notes for her report and made a strangled choking noise as she tried to fight off laughter. Danse's brown eyes flickered to Haylen for a moment, the scribe catching the unspoken warning and she cleared her throat, returning to her clipboard as she walked away. 

"Your presence seems to have an outside effect on people around you," Danse continued. "Let's hope your insubordination won't be a common trend."

"Danse, I would never!" Rose gasped, hand flying to her heart in mock hurt. The Paladin grimaced, visibly exercising restraint as he slowly responded. 

_"Paladin."_

"Paladin," Rose gave another affirming nod. Danse internally groaned, wondering why he thought offering the opportunity of joining the Brotherhood would be a plausible thought with this civilian. Elder Maxson would certainly have a field day with this one. He inwardly hoped she wouldn't screw this up, the report had already been sent up to the Prydwen. And perhaps it was that thought alone that reminded him specifically why he recruited her. 

"The VertiBird is currently in route," Danse continued, eyes flashing to her ruined vault suit. She was a smaller woman, but she looked as though the wasteland had chewed her up and spit her out. She had found a brown, leather long coat during her travels, a thin ratty hood pulled over her head and a gas mask protecting her face. Under the coat was Rose's tattered, blue and yellow, ruddy Vault 111 suit. She had a fighting load carrier strapped to her chest finished with magazine and grenade pouches, and a set of left and right leg sturdy leather armor. On her waist she wielded a two 10mm pistols and a combat knife, and strapped to her back was a strengthened, long recon scoped, muzzled sniper rifle...in the stock of the weapon was etched, _Soldier's Creed._

"Sweet! Any advice?" She asked brightly, silence following her words before she added, "Paladin."

"Enjoy the ride. It's one of my favorite experiences in the Brotherhood," Paladin Danse told her. "As far as addressing anyone aboard the Prydwen...try not to speak unless spoken to. Knight-Captain Kells will be there to receive us aboard. He will brief you upon arrival and I will personally escort you to the introduction ceremony for the new initiates. I assume our Elder will want to speak with you personally. Do try and remember your manners. He is our senior-most officer and I would like to avoid losing my rank due to your insubordination."

"I assume your faith in me is slim," Rose leaned her weight onto one hip, folding her arms across her chest. 

"You would assume correctly."

Rose frowned beneath the mask and shrugged. She had always been a little too playful, a little less serious, and a whole lotta' carefree. That was what made her college life so fun. There was always a bar, a club, dancing, singing and the promise of a new day. Roger tended to prod at Rose that if she wasn't such a lively free spirit, she might do well in the military. _Roger..._

Danse noticed when his new initiate began to mentally check out for a moment, having gone silent too extensively. 

"Initiate Hawkins," He spoke, clearing his throat and her head snapped up in response. "I believe the VertiBird is almost here. Let's head up to the launch pad on the roof."


	2. The Prydwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosemary's insubordination is sure to be Danse's downfall.

The painfully loud sound of the VertiBird's blades slicing through the air was a normalcy to the Power Armor clad Paladin, almost soothing in a way as he relished the way the wind caressed his face, and the constant pumping of his adrenaline spiked heart while he took in the view of the Commonwealth...but the manic laughter and constant spray of the minigun was definitely distracting. He watched Rosemary with apparent apprehension, feeling ten years shave off his life as he took in the girl shaking against the minigun, her finger not once letting off the trigger while the spinning barrels burned a bright yellow. 

What kind of psychopath had he recruited?

His brain began to wonder, pondering the moment he realized she showed promise to become an essential member of the Brotherhood of Steel. 

_"Who's there?" The Brotherhood Paladin called out as the last feral ghoul hit the ground. There had been no sound of a rifle being fired, but the freaks dropped left and right like bloatflies. Paladin Danse glared harshly around the Cambridge Police Department that he and his squad had secured. It was dark, save for the glow of the full moon, and quiet. The only sounds were the purr of the generators and Knight Rhys panting grunts and Scribe Haylen's soothing voice as she spoke to him. _

_"I'm asking you to come foreword in thanks, not hostility," Danse tried once more, gripping Righteous Authority tighter. _

_Suddenly he could make out a faint scuffle and a light feminine gasp somewhere in the distance. _

_"O-Oh! You're human!" The woman's voice exclaimed. "I thought you were a robot with all of that armor on! Give me a second, I'm heading down!" _

_Danse ignored the objecting of the bleeding knight next to the police department, telling him not to trust the citizens of the wasteland. A short moment later, he could make out a figure approaching in the darkness, hands up in a surrendering motion. _

_"I come in peace," She spoke, giving a slight giggle at her word choice. Paladin Danse didn't understand what was so humorous but nonetheless, he lowered his rifle ever so slightly, tilting his chin up as he acknowledged her. _

_"Not many civilians would risk themselves to help out a stranger in need," Danse remarked, watching the masked figure approach with suspicion. What the _hell _was with that gas mask? "Please state your business."_

_"Huh...might as well be a sentry bot," The woman mumbled under her breath. "Ah, well, I'm from Vault 111."_

_That was not the answer he was expecting. _

_"You're a vault dweller?" He didn't hide his surprise very well. "Most people wouldn't admit to such a thing. I appreciate your honesty." And that was when his eyes fell upon the well-hidden blue and yellow vault suit peeking out from her leather overcoat. _

_"I don't see any reason in lying to you," She shrugged. _

_"Listen If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side." Paladin Danse offered and the figure leaned her weight onto one hip as she crossed her arms over her chest. _

_"I want to help, honestly, but I'm not a huge fan of all the secrecy going on. Who are you?" _

_"Very well," He sighed and stood up straighter. "I'm Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys," He indicated to his scribe and injured Knight. "We're on recon duty, but I'm down a man and our supplies are running low. I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal's too weak to reach them," Danse's face was written with concern, matching the worry in his voice.   
_

_"Sir, if I may?" Scribe Haylen cut in. _

_"Proceed Haylen."_

_"I've modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I'm afraid it just isn't enough," Haylen pressed a wad of gauze against Rhys' wound and he let out a pained hiss. "What we need is something that will boost the signal. Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need... the Deep Range Transmitter. We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter and bring it back here. So, what do you say? You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?"_

_"You would employ the help of a stranger?" The mysterious vault dweller remarked in utter dismay. There was a universally shared moment of crippling stupidity as the three surviving Brotherhood agents realized they had no clue what the woman's name was. _

_"You...make a fair point," Danse struggled to admit. "But we are pressed for options."_

_"Oh, I'm not saying no," The woman chuckled. "My name's Rosemary Hawkins, and it would be my pleasure to help the Brotherhood of Steel out...whoever the hell you people are."_

_Hawkins...Why did that sound so familiar?_

_Paladin Danse had felt a shred of hope at that moment, despite the sizeable difference between him and Rosemary. He had replied with 'Outstanding' unbeknownst that the journey to ArcJet would be anything but. He had cleared the path for them himself as they set off. Common wasteland pests and raiders were minor inconveniences, but he noticed Rosemary hanging back, evaluating the fighting. She hadn't fired one round yet or made a move to assist him. His patience was growing thin. Even as they entered ArcJet, he had to bite his tongue as he cleared a room of synths on his own...he readied himself to let loose and tear this woman a new one until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw Rose standing closely behind him._

_"You've been doing all the heavy lifting. Let me make this easier on you?" _

_Baffled and at a complete loss for words, Danse gave a slight nod, motioning for her to go ahead. Rose moved like a serpent. Her body lithely and gracefully slithered in and out of shadows. It was as if she was a constant moving piece of the room, how well she blended into the environment. It worked so well that the synths hadn't realized she was there until she was suddenly standing right before them. Even then, it took a moment for their hostile sensors to go off. By that point, it was too late. She caught the synth closest to here in an arm lock as it tried to raise its weapon. Rose used the synth as a shield from the lasers as she fired rounds off into the other humanoid bots before stomping out her captive's knee and planting a bullet in the synth's cranium._

_Danse watched her with utter intrigue, his mouth falling open slightly. It was like watching a well-choreographed dance, and she knew all the right steps. _

_Shoulders going slack, Rosemary turned back to Danse who was fumbling for words. That may have been why she hung back during their journey. Danse couldn't open up an opportunity for her to work her magic. She could do well solo, but with talent like hers, she could be a lethal member of a team. Skill like that shouldn't go to waste in this god-forsaken wasteland. _

"-DIE, YOU UGLY GREEN BASTARDS! DIE!"

And Paladin Danse was awoken from his flashback to the evil laughter of the new recruit who was still peppering buildings and beaches where little green creatures down below ran for cover to return fire at the _big angry bird in the sky._ Danse blinked owlishly at the personality change of the small woman who cackled with glee as she rained hell down below like the archangel of death. 

Well, if one thing was for sure, she was definitely the voice of the Brotherhood when it came to vocalizing their displeasure toward mutants. 

He would have tried to give her the tensions building, nail-biting speech her normally gave to new recruits flying in VertiBirds their first time, but he had a feeling she wouldn't have listened. Besides, she was definitely enjoying this in her own way. A pleased giggle left Rose as the minigun finally fell quiet, the gears still whirring and humming as it cooled down. 

"My hands are vibrating!" Rosemary cooed, holding up her hands. Danse couldn't bite bark the smirk that threatened his face. Yeah, he knew that feeling all too well.

At last, the VertiBird docked in the Prydwen. Rose had commented that it was a nice, big blimp in this distance but was more than surprised to hear that was their Headquarters. _Maybe not the smartest place to hide from your enemies...not that hard to pop the big floating balloon in the sky...Well, at any rate, nothing like pulling your dick out in the locker room for a size show. _That was precisely what the Brotherhood had done. As Rose's feet touched the metal floor of the Prydwen and the cold, late fall air hit her, she couldn't fight back a shiver. 

Being up this high definitely gave Rose the heebeejeebees, but seeing the soldiers in power armor pulling sentry duty...that gave her a sense of nostalgia that threatened to choke the air from her lungs. It was like she was reading the pre-war_ Boston Bugle_ all over again, searching the manifests for Roger's name, reading about Anchorage, and the attack on their homefront...Begging God to let him come back in one piece...

"-...Initiate...Initiate! Hawkins!"

"Pardon?" She blurted as she whipped her head back and forth between Lancer-Captain Kells and Paladin Danse. Captain Kells looked utterly impatient while Danse expressed evident concern. 

"I asked if you had any questions, initiate, you'd do good to remember not to make a senior officer repeat themselves unless you've stood too close to a Fatman blast," Kells narrowed his eyes, implicating to pay better attention unless she was willing to plead hard of hearing. Rosemary _certainly _didn't like his tone and she glared at him beneath the mask. 

What the _hell _was she doing? Why had she agreed to this ridiculous, daunting task of playing _soldier? _

Danse, sensing the battle of wills, cleared his throat and nodded at Lancer-Captain Kells. "Initiate, all you have to say is 'yes sir.'"

And just like that, it was as if Danse had just taken over the reins for her, helping her steer as he directed the conversation. Rose stared at him, although he couldn't tell, with awe and respect, beyond grateful for the save. She nodded and managed out a proper, polite answer. 

"Good. I'll assume there are no questions. Initiate, you are to report to the Command Deck and attend the Initiate In-Brief being led by the elder. He's already started, I would try and pay better attention. He's not as forgiving," Kells told her before rendering a salute. Danse returned it and they both looked at Rose who stared at the two in utter confusion. 

"A-Am I supposed to-?"

"Yes," Danse and Kells answered pointedly. 

"Oh," Rosemary nodded before sloppily thrusting her arm across her chest. Kell's right eye visibly twitched before he glowered at Danse, clearly displeased with this individual he had recruited. 

"It would do you justice to teach her more customs and courtesies, Danse," 

"I'll get right on that after the briefing," Danse sighed as they dropped their salutes and Kells left toward the flight deck. "Hawkins..."

"Paladin..."

"You're either going to end up being really smart or really strong after I'm done with you..." Danse threatened and Rosemary let out an agitated groan. 

"Can we please just get to this damn meeting so I can hide?" Rose begged, feeling close to tears at the abrasive behavior she was being forced to deal with. Shit, there was no way she could last in an army. If someone even slightly raised their voice at her, Rose could easily fall to pieces. Rose cared entirely too much and worried about what other people thought. Perhaps if she did make it, it might remedy these completely unreasonable feelings. 

Danse found it increasingly hard to believe this was the same mistress of stealth who cleared a room for him at ArcJet. 

Despite being mentally rattled by the encounter with Lancer-Captain Kells, Rose was led into the Command Deck by Paladin Danse. She was still fresh meat in the Commonwealth, a pre-war _collectable _that needed to be treated with care like a fragile and dainty glass sculpture. She was familiar with fighting by this point, kill or be killed, but surviving a military? Who the _hell _was she kidding!?

The Command Deck was an open area, with glorious, large windows overlooking the wasteland of the Commonwealth below. It was quite a gorgeous sight…

_And quite a gorgeous sight indeed…_ Rose’s eyes flickered up and down the length of the powerful man pacing back and forth across the deck, an arrangement of brand new wasteland initiates standing proudly at parade rest while he spoke to them in a short, powerful voice that left no room for discussion.

He seemed tall enough, standing at a solid six foot at least, with a strong, herculean body. His mahogany brown hair was short, shaved closely to his scalp on the sides, but left long and pushed backward on top. Rose couldn’t not lick her lips as she saw his perfect mouth moving beneath the forest of his well-kempt beard.

_Hubba-hubba…he certainly looks delicious…_ Rose thought to herself in a sing song voice. But she couldn’t help noticing he looked achingly familiar. Certain things about him screamed…Roger? But that was pure coincidence…wasn’t it?

“-Brothers and Sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth,” His voice was wrought with concern, but his booming voice only grew in confidence. “You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively, without question. Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission.”

The Elder had his back turned to them, before he turned back around to face the new initiates with a newfound disgust on his face, as if he had been yacked on by a puss shooting bloatfly.

“Beneath the Commonwealth there is a cancer... known as the Institute, a malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface,” _Now that sounded awfully familiar. Of course, they wouldn’t be in Boston for the next baseball game at Fenway park…the Commonwealth was known for it’s scary boogeyman. And Nora had just killed one of their confidants…_ “ They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute Scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb. They call their creation the "synth," a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being,”

Rosemary cringed ever-so-delicately at the hostility of his word choices. Surely, he couldn’t be this adamant on hating machines? God, let her never leave him alone with Nora’s Mister Handy…

“-And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species. I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their "synths" are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly,” The anger in his voice began to bleed away, thinning into something calmer, yet similarly stern. “This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost. But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy... itself.”

“_Ad Victoriam!” _The initiates all chorused, smacking their arms over their chests curtly in sharp salutes. Rosemary visibly deflated. Fuck, she really needed to learn how to salute correctly…

One by one, the initiates all left the Command Deck, returning to their assigned tasks aboard the Prydwen and below at the Airport. Soon, the room was empty, quiet, save for the daunting stare of the _young _elder staring harshly at her and the Paladin behind her. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, do I salute? I look ridiculous right now! He’s gonna yell…crap it looks like he’s gonna yell! _

"Paladin Danse," The Elder's voice sharply cut through the thick silence, causing Paladin Danse to perk visibly at his address. 

"Yes, Elder?"

"It would do you diligence to instruct this new initiate on the proper etiquette when reporting to a senior-most officer," He continued, send her a pointed stare and _oh-_those eyes. His eyes were like frigid glaciers in the arctic, a blue so cold and hard like steel in the winter and Rose felt it in her bones...Despite the similarities in his appearance, his eyes were a striking difference in Roger's warm brown eyes that had once held such love for her. These eyes? They held utter contempt. 

And _etiquette? _Jesus Christ, it was the salute, wasn't it? She looked to her sponsor for help who seemed as equally confused as she as his whiskey brown eyes darted back and forth between the Elder and his recruit before recognition flashed across his face and he hung his head low for a moment, most likely a self-punishment reflex. 

"My deepest apologies, Elder, my time in the field has caused me to become complacent, forgive my insubordination," Danse apologized fluidly. Rose internally irked at him because _why the fuck does he like that word so much? _Danse faced Rose as he raised his chin, looking down on her. 

"Initiate Hawkins, obstruction of the face is only permitted in power armor. Likewise, soldiers are excluded from rendering proper salutes when in power armor."

"Obstruction of the-?" Rose's hands flew to her face, feeling the gas mask before her body filled with relief. "Oh! I'm sorry, I forget I have this raggedy thing on sometimes. You'll have to allow me to plead ignorance, here," Her hands made quick work of the straps securing the mask to her head. 

The Elder and Danse's faces filled with utter shock as the mask was removed and the hood fell, exposing the vault dweller's face for the first time. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing that had walked aboard the Prydwen and Danse mentally began to whittle away at his pride. How could he have known what type of specimen lurked beneath that gas mask? She could have been a ghoul! But she wasn't...she was...

The Elder blinked twice, taking in her alabaster, aristocratic face and long, curly strawberry blonde hair that spilled across her dainty shoulders. She offered a smile, those inviting, shell pink lips parting to reveal brilliantly white, straight teeth. And as those sultry, forget-me-not blue eyes fell on him, seeming to twinkle as she took him in for the first time unobstructed. 

"Why...Do you cover your face?" Danse foolishly asked when he finally found his nouns and verbs again. Rose's eyes flickered to him and Danse felt a pain in his stomach, similar to a punch as her eyes made contact with him. Was it right as her sponsor to feel so small under her stare?

"Oh," She laughed awkwardly as she fingered a strawberry curl, looking off to the side. "I struggle with sunburns since I have fair skin. It's not quite used to all this radiation or UV rays. That's why I wear this getup. Make no mistake, it gets _super _hot."

"At any rate," The young Elder cleared his throat as he spoke, not once tearing his eyes from Rose. "As part of the Brotherhood, you will be expected to yield to the same Uniform standards as the rest. No exceptions unless you obtain written, medical consent approved by our medic."

"Sounds fair," Rosemary shrugged. 

"You need only say 'yes, Elder.'"

"Oh, _yes, Elder," _Rosemary corrected herself. The Elder's eyes strayed from her for a moment, seeming to be recollecting his thoughts before he spoke again. 

"The report by Paladin Danse states you would be a viable resource for the Brotherhood. Initiate...Rosemary, is it?" He clarified and Rose gave an affirming nod. "Let me issue you your first lesson, Initiate. Familiarize yourself with our customs and courtesies. I will not have you slighting my soldiers because of your disregard for rank due to ignorance. Henceforth, you need to take time to meet the Proctors of the ship."

"Absolutely," Rose confirmed. 

"As this is our first meeting, I will be personally welcoming you into the fold, initiate. My name is Elder Arthur Maxson, leader of the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel."

Rose had frozen, her face voiding of all emotion as she stared at the young Maxson with wide eyes. Arthur was still talking, but Rosemary was not listening, his words floating in one ear and out the other. As Danse glanced over at his newest recruit, he could tell she was mentally checking out again. Her mouth was gaping, fumbling for air possibly to produce words. Arthur Maxson was too busy going on a tangent about the purpose of Brotherhood's presence in the Commonwealth, parading upon his soapbox to notice. A small twinge in Danse's chest tugged at his better judgment. These check-outs could prove dangerous if they were downrange. He would have to talk to her about them. But for now, he would have to ease her into the water...

_"Initiate." _

The word snapped Rose out of her mind and sent an apologetic look toward Danse whos face was creased with disapproval and concern. Arthur paused midspeech to glower at the two, noticing the blatant lack of respect. 

"Is there something going on more important?" The young Maxson barked out with irritation and Rose's eyes flickered toward him, her blue eyes softening with warm tears that threatened to spill. 

"I-I'm sorry..." Her voice was tight and thick with emotion as she struggled to speak above a whisper. "But...your name? Maxson? As in, Roger Maxson?"

Arthur released his irritation for a moment to stand tall and proud at the mention of the name. A wry smile threated the corners of his mouth as he gave a confirming nod. 

"Yes, the very one. I am the last living descendent of the Maxson bloodline. Roger Maxson was my great, great, great, great grandfather," Arthur answered proudly, folding his arms across his chest with something akin to arrogance. "It's nice to see you are somewhat educated on the Brotherhood."

"You look like him..."

That was not the response either of them was anticipating from Rosemary. Danse's eyes widened considerably and Arthur's pride was reduced to a pile of smithereens in an instant. Rose's face was filled with such emotion. Grief, happiness, sorrow, pain, excitement, and wonder all terribly twisted and knotted into one giant mess upon her gentle face. 

"I beg your pardon, initiate," Elder Maxson seethed with such malice, it was unlike anything Paladin Danse had ever heard before. He wanted to pick up Rosemary like a pre-war football and run her out of the Command Deck before Arthur could detonate. But Rose wasn't done...

"It's nothing to be angry about, Elder," Rose spoke kindly, her words seeming to cushion Maxson from flying off the handle. "Roger was a good man. A very good man. I'd always hoped he'd survived the war. The bombs. I never thought, _dreamed_, he would become this successful, however." 

_Hawkins..._The name was so achingly familiar to Danse. But why?

"The report," Elder Maxson instantly recalled, his anger fizzling out like a firecracker dud on New Year's Eve. He relaxed, only slightly, his eyes still staring at Rose harshly. "You were pre-war...Vault 111? How did you know my grandfather?"

And then, Rose's face turned rosy much to the confusion of the two soldiers of the Brotherhood. Bashfully, Rosemary hid her face, scratching her head awkwardly as she tried to maintain face in the presence of her superiors. 

"I-Uh..well, Roger and I...he was...you see...we were involved," Rosemary shakily answered. 

Now, that was a major slap to the face to both the Elder and Danse. 

"We dated. For a long time. Very on again, off again."

There was more silence. 

"I mean, that was well over 210 years ago."

Arthur was still staring at Rose as if she had just grown a third eye and called him a rot bagger. 

"I feel like I just made things very awkward..." 

"Paladin," The young Maxson spoke, at last, unable to tear his eyes off of Rose. "Show this initiate to her quarters. She will report to me at 08:00 on the dot tomorrow. Try and educate her on the proper customs and courtesies of the Brotherhood. Dismissed."

"Roger that," Danse nodded as he retreated out of the room, Rosemary hot on his heels, her face and neck burning with a vicious blush. 


End file.
